Holmes is were the Heart is
by Ms Llewellyn
Summary: SLASH. Holmes may have great deduction skills, he certainly couldn't see the pain Watson was going through, but maybe an old manor in the country and a murder, could help him see? Holmes/Watson ON HOLD TILL FURTHER NOTICE!
1. Prologue

_**Summary: **Holmes, though as smart as he may be, had always had this notion that he knew what he wanted. But not even he with his skills of deduction, could pick up on even his most hidden secrets, not until a case whisks him and his dear Watson to the country side. Theres been a murder at Birchwood Manor, a lonely manor out in the middle of nowhere, while within its walls something ghastly seeks the perfect candidate. Holmes will need everything in his arsonal to find the culprit, but can he do it before Watson becomes the next victim? SLASH Holmes/Watson, H/W. _

_**Warning: **Summary may change!!!_

_**Prologue**_

For someone so smart, he most certainly was blind.

Or atleast Watson thought so, because Holmes could clearly not see what was right before him, silently offering itself to him. He just failed to pick up on the subtle signs. For deductive reasoning, Holmes couldn't apply it to this department. And what department was Watson speaking of? Well the department that governs the heart, and consequently Watsons unreqainted affections. Though he smiles and admits to Marie that he loves her and wishes to capture her hand in marriage, he is not in love with her. Nor does he wish to marry her. She would not be happy, and he most certainly wouldn't be happy, but he being unhappy was a regular occurance lately. He stared almost sorrowfully down at the large gigantic diamond - a gift from Holmes, to replace the one Watson lost weeks before - on his wifes left ring finger.

Two months until the date. The Wedding. The day he signs over his own happiness. Oh don't get Watson wrong, once upon a time, he imagined marrying the likes of Marie, but since the case of Blackwood- certain things had been shockingly clear. Like his deep affections for Holmes. The very affections he had mistaken for brotherly love. But Holmes was blinder than a bat!

"John, whats wrong?" came the sweet voice of Marie. Her voice had once been like bells, but as the date grew closer it seemed to shift into the thundering 'caw' of crows. Nasty little buggers they were. Watson smiled and kissed his fiances cheek, while drawing her closer to him as they walked down the busy streets of London.

"Nothing my dear, absolutely nothing" He reassured her and she blindly believed him. He didn't spare a glance at 221B Baker street behind him. He could imagine Holmes standing at the window, looking out at them as they walked further down the street to call a cab, a look of absolute abandon on his face. Watson wasn't abandoning Holmes by marrying Marie, in fact, Watson wanted Holmes to see just how unhappy this empending marriage was making him and end it. But maybe he should just give up and continue on, forget about himself and concentrate on his future wife. Perhaps then he could forget about his affections, the adventures Holmes would drag him on - though Watson lived on them like a starving man craving water in a desert - and evidently Holmes himself (though even Watson knew it was impossible). Shaking his head, Watson knew from the bottom of his heart, marriage life was going to be the most boring thing to ever happen to him, and the one thing he had to go through with.


	2. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1 **_

Sherlock Holmes never claimed to retain much knowledge about the romanticized notions of the heart.

It was quite understandable then, why he couldn't see what was ailing Watson. Because undoubtly Watson was becoming depressed and he had a theory it involved Mary, but that was the question wasn't it? Did it indeed have something to do with Mary? Thinking about Watsons impending marriage with the lovely Mary Morstan set the most unpleasent feeling tumbling through out his being. Perhaps he was coming down down with the flu? It would certainly explain the stomach aches, or a bit of heart burn? That could contribute to the ache in his chest. Holmes frowned, Mary was like a plague, just thinking about her made him violently ill.

Holmes turned away from the window, Watson and Mary had long since disappeared.

"Gladstone, we must think of something to pull our old boy from the pit he has fallen into." He looked excidedly down at the bulldog and frowned. Gladstone, named after the many experiments Holmes put him too, seemed to be under the influence once again. What had he tested Gladstone with this time? He couldn't quite recall. "Well your not going to be much help."

Holmes would have Watson ready and in prime condition come his wedding day. Just the mere thought of the wedding had Holmes wanting to regurgitate his lunch. Swallowing thickly and shrugging off his impending need to meet his lunch for a second time today, picked up his violin and began to pace the length of his room. Ideally plucking at the strings, his thoughts swirled, formulating a plan to pull Watson from his self-induced funk. He eyed the pile of envelopes resting on the corner of his desk.

Watson craved mystery and adventure, just as much as he. But there was seldom any case that held his attention. Finding someones lost jewlery wasn't exactly stimulating to someone of his intellect. Especially if the answer was so glaringly obvious; it was always the husband with a gambling problem! Watson had a gambling problem. He wasn't the ideal husband, losing more money than he earned in one case, and when Watson did win it was because Holmes was being betted on. It was just plain observation that Watson and Marie were like Oil and Water, they just didn't mix! What did Mary see in Watson, more importantly, what did Watson see in Mary? Holmes frowned, then scowled. Thinking such terrible thoughts about his best friend. Even if every thought ended in there being something wrong with the pair as a whole. Alone Watson was great, Mary was great as well, it was together that they were terrible. He needed to come to grips with the fact that Watson loved Mary, was in love with her. He should at least learn to tolerate her, she was going to be around for a long time.

Why was it that he thought Watson was abandoning him by marrying Mary? It wasn't like they couldn't still do cases with eachother and he could always visit, even if, in Holmes mind Watson shouldn't have to visit, he belonged at 221B Baker street with him.

What if Mary locked Watson away, demanding he give up his practice and devote all of himself to Mary, give her children, money, possibly give up adventures and evidently Holmes himself. The violin strings snapped from the pressure of him pulling at them, the mere thought that Holmes would be forgotten was just unthinkable. There was no way Watson could forget him, right? What if Mary was secretly in a Satanic cult and would sacrifice Watson to obtain power! It happened with Lord Blackwood, what made Mary any different? She was a woman and woman were discieving creatures.

"Dear lord, your blowing this way out of context." He whispered. "She isn't involved in witchcraft." She wasn't that kind of woman, but Holmes had his doubts more often than not.

"You know, the first sign of insantiy is talking to yourself." Holmes twirled around and grinned.

"Constible, what do we owe this lovely visit." he said completely bypassing the mans remark. Holmes had always had this lingering thought that he might be a tiny bit - and by tiny bit he means minscule - looney. Nothing to serious though. He glanced down at the letter in the constibles hands.

"There's been a murder..." Holmes grinned. Even better. And an idea formed, the perfect idea to lure Watson into a false sense of security so he'd spill the beans (so to say.)

TBC...............

**a/n: sorry its so short, i promise it will be longer next time. **

**Amadan**


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